The Neverwills

When my mom passed, there were a million things she would never get to do but only the big ones seemed to matter – she’d never see me make something of myself, she’d never meet the man I love or make my wedding dress, she’d never hold my kids or teach them silly campfire songs.

Now, a few decades later, with losing my dad, it’s the little things that dig in. I can’t help but wonder who’s going to pester me about how many words I’ve written? Who do I text to brag when I get my picky boy to eat something new? One of the worst has been final Jeopardy honestly. It was a little bit of a competition between us and to give credit, he was far more often right than I, but it was fun and silly and now it’s gone. I neverwill get to do any of those things again. He neverwill respond or pat me on the head or tell me what’s wrong with a particular plotline (or what’s right with it too).

I think with all the things going on right now, all the little transitions that are going on in my life, I’m feeling those holes in my life a little more today. I would give anything to show my mom what I’m working on using the techniques she taught me. I think my dad would be hugely proud of me for taking some of the steps I’ve taken recently with getting myself out there. I’m just missing them both pretty hard today and all the neverwills are squawking at me.

They’re terribly icky shadowbirds those neverwills.

Advertisements

3 Comments

Filed under Life

3 responses to “The Neverwills

  1. I know.

    My grandmother and I were really close growing up, even though I lived here in Texas and she lived in Tennessee. She passed away when my son was only 3 and there are days when I still break down and just ugly cry and scream “GODDAMMIT I STILL NEED YOU!” because I miss her so much. It’s really hard when I pass somebody who’s dipping Copenhagen because she always had cans of the stuff lying around the house and at least one in her purse for when she was out and about.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s